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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. <br>
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. <br>
Can't Get Enough - 1. Arc 1, Chapter 1
Hello readers! VataRaven and I have been waiting so long to submit chapters for our ongoing fanfiction. We have so many chapters written, all we need to do is edit them. Oh joy! At least we have so much already. Look forward to chapters submitted every week. This is a role-play styled fanfiction. If you are not used to reading those, it is easy to understand once you get the hang of it. We do not own the amazing Durarara!! Enjoy!
Arc 1: Ch.1
Humans fascinated Izaya Orihara; his humans were all that he lived for and studied. Oh, how he envied human emotions. As he observed his humans, he remained detached from the world. After all, how could a god control humans if he was too fixated on his own emotions? Emotions were weak, love was fake. Izaya never believed in beings higher than him, much less an afterlife, so there was no reason why he shouldn’t live his life to the fullest. If happy endings didn’t exist, why wouldn’t he play with his pawns while it lasted? That’s all his beloved humans were to him: pawns and loved every single one of them.
And then there was Shizu-chan—
Truthfully, Izaya hated who he became. Or maybe he was always this psychotic, he couldn’t tell. Either way, there was no explanation for what exactly started this madness. When his life spun in a different direction, leading him down a dark path or when it would stop. There was no rewind button for all the shit he had pulled in his life, and thankfully, Izaya had no shame.
“Flea!” snapped the blonde. Just great, why did he even bother telling that damn bastard to stop coming to Ikebukuro? He swore Izaya did this just to spite him and to piss him off. What was so damn funny about getting him so angry? Why the hell did the damned flea even find it amusing when he threw shit at him?!
He’s stood by, watching the raven acting his normal flamboyant self, waiting for Tom to finish up inside. He didn’t need to come in since it was office work. He turned his gaze to up at the sky and pulled out a smoke, lighting it to pass some time. But he found himself blinking when he felt his sunglasses slide off his face. His eye twitched, knowing who the hell it was. Who else could it be? There was only one person who was willing and brave enough to get that close to him. “You have three seconds to give them back before I rip your head off,” he warned Izaya, and frowned when the damn info broker ran around a corner. “Izaya!” he yelled, running after him.
Izaya smirked when he heard the blonde idiot call after him. He never understood Shizuo’s logic or his choice of words, but it amused him. He loved it when Shizuo’s mood changed within a split second. It was incredibly effortless to piss the man off, which thrilled him even more. It was one of the reasons why Shizuo was the only guy he hated. Only Izaya didn’t consider Shizuo human due to his intense amount of strength. As expected, Shizuo chased after him. Unlike anyone else, the blonde gave him an adrenaline rush. He actually managed to hurt him when he had the rare chance. He laughed his usual sadistic, taunting laugh. It was always a game of cat and mouse with the two. Fortunately for Izaya, he was quick on his feet. It gave him the advantage to dodge Shizuo’s vending machines and stop signs.
Shizuo followed Izaya into a maze of cars. He growled when he spotted Izaya and he ran after him. He didn’t get it, why the hell did they end up doing this every damn day? Damn it, the flea came to him when he was bored and that pissed him off. He let out a roar and pushed everything out of the way in order to catch up with the raven and just when he was close enough, he grabbed his slim wrist in his hand. Shizuo tossed Izaya’s small body into a wall, watching it crack a little. “Go piss someone else off for a change,” he spat. He wished he could punch that stupid grin off the info broker’s face. “I don’t need you getting me fired from this job,” he added. He pulled back some when Izaya started to creep him out by leaning in closer to his face.
Izaya grunted loudly once he hit the wall and a smirk plastered along his face as soon as he regained composure. He adored the way his back throbbed with pain. “Who else would I piss off?” Without his permission, his head automatically advanced forward. He realized what he was doing and stopped himself. “What? Are you scared of a little eye contact?” He lifted his leg in a swift motion and kicked Shizuo’s leg hard, harder than normal, he may have added. Izaya was impressed at his own sudden strength. Usually physical contact didn’t satisfy Izaya, except towards the dumb blonde. It was much more satisfying to watch humans inflict harm on themselves. It gave him a sick pleasure; he wasn’t sure if he could consider himself a sadist.
The blonde surprisingly grunted out in pain where his was kicked. He normally wouldn’t have felt it, but Izaya kicked it him a place where it hurt like a bitch, right near the kneecap. He caught himself before his knees buckled underneath him, his hands rested on either side of the informant’s head. He cornered the flea in, staring him right in his crimson eyes. “Glasses, now,” he ordered. He felt strange without them, unless he was sleeping, he’s always seen with them on. Izaya knew this, but the bitch went and took them anyway. He pulled his hand back and punched the wall right beside the info broker’s head, frowning when he didn’t even flinch. Shizuo was going soft; he didn’t really want to hurt Izaya, but the man just pissed him off.
Izaya smirked happily at the reaction he received from the blonde. He actually didn’t remember where he placed Shizuo’s glasses. That’s odd, he thought to himself. Izaya had an amazing memory, that made him the genius he was. “I guess you’ll have to find them,” he teased as he saw Shizuo’s clench a fist. He closed his eyes, preparing for the pain wherever he desired to hit. When the pain didn’t show, he opened his eyes and looked at the dent in the wall. His twisted smirk grew at seeing the cavity in the wall up close. Although, it had him wondering why the brute decided not to hit him. “Are you tired or did you miss me? I’m right here, Shizu-chan,” the raven challenged.
The blonde twitched, he just wanted to reach out his hand and strangle that skinny little neck of his. He was trying to be nice and this little pest kept trying to push his buttons. He hated violence, but the people he collected debts from pissed him off. He couldn’t help it. And there was this guy, he walked along and started picking fun at him for whatever reason. He wouldn’t get so damned mad if Izaya would stop.
He reached a hand up, roughly grabbing Izaya by his hair, holding him in place. “Don’t complain, I’m cutting you some slack,” he told him, glaring daggers at the smaller man. He moved his forearm so it rested up against the wall. The blonde towered over the other, their faces mere inches apart. “Give me my glasses back and I’ll let you go for the day.”
Izaya playfully moaned at the feeling of his raven hair being gripped by Shizuo’s strong hand. He laughed slightly. He could feel the desire to kill him underneath the blonde’s fingertips. Maybe Shizuo was as dumb as he thought or maybe he actually cared for him. Hah! That is nonsense. “Since when did you cut me slack?” One wrong move and Izaya knew Shizuo would snap his neck. He wanted to see how angry he could get, how cold he really was. Izaya searched around in his pockets for the glasses and found his beloved pocket knife instead. “I tried to find it,” he shrugged, pulling out his knife and set the blade inches away from Shizuo’s cheek. “Can’t find it,” he lied.
Shizuo gritted his teeth, not too fond of the idea that Izaya was holding the blade close to his face. He snapped. A certain little flea wasn’t willing to give in and play nice. He gripped his hand tighter and smashed Izaya’s head against the wall. “I was trying to play nice!” he snapped, throwing the smaller man to the ground. He stomped on his head with each word, and ending it with a good kick to the ribs. “You happy now? I hit you, you creepy little fuck,” he said and knelt down by the wounded man. He rummaged around his pockets to get his shit back. “Don’t mess with my shades.” He put them back on his face and walked off.
Izaya screamed when Shizuo smashed his head in, and when he felt the overbearing kick to his ribs. He looked at Shizuo from a distance. Well, that’s what he asked for. He transferred the pain into anger and amusement. Izaya attempted to stand up with shaky legs, while grasping the side of his ribs where Shizuo kicked. He didn’t know what provoked him to let Shizuo hit him. He never would willingly stand there and let Shizuo hit him. Oh well. It’s nothing that can’t heal. “Heh.” He wiped the blood from his mouth. “If I knew you loved your shades so much, I would have...” He held his head as the pain pounded against his skull. “I...would have...” He wasn’t able to finish as the world turned black and he fell against the ground.
Hello readers! VataRaven and I have been waiting so long to submit chapters for our ongoing fanfiction. We have so many chapters written, all we need to do is edit them. Oh joy! At least we have so much already. Look forward to chapters submitted every week. This is a role-play styled fanfiction. If you are not used to reading those, it is easy to understand once you get the hang of it. We do not own the amazing Durarara!! Enjoy!
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. <br>
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. <br>
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